


the mapmaker's tale

by betony



Series: Ummi, Mapmaker [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Backstory, Bechdel Test Pass, Gen, Women Being Awesome, elaborate headcanon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-10-27
Updated: 2012-11-16
Packaged: 2017-11-17 04:28:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/547604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/betony/pseuds/betony
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em> Ummi let herself smile back. “Then, Master Wan Shi Tong, we have a bargain.”</em> There was so much more to Ummi than anyone knew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the mapmaker's tale

When she was young and foolish, what would have horrified Ummi most was this: that she would only ever be remembered as one of Ataneq‘s Five Seafaring Daughters.  


It wasn’t that she didn’t love her sisters, or love her life with them, free and unbound on the waves. It wasn’t that at all. But sometimes Ummi wanted to be known—wanted all of them to be known—as more than just the Five Seafaring Sisters. Ummi wanted people to notice how shrewd Ahnah was at bargaining; how Sura’s fingers were clever enough to make a perfect seam, carve a fishhook from bone, and do anything else she set her mind to; how Kya’s temper and laughter were both as quick as her arms were strong; how Tanaraq could outswim anyone they had ever met. She wanted people to look at the maps she made and know that this had sprung from the pen of Ummi, who noticed the smallest details about all the places they visited across the Four Nations and recorded them lovingly onto her maps so other people could know them, too.  


Instead, whenever they stopped at market, all people saw was more of the Five Seafaring Sisters’ quality wares.  


She thought later that it must have been that terrible desperation for recognition that made her notice the stranger in the Earth Kingdom market instead of doing the sensible thing and ignoring him. If only she hadn’t, it would have been such an ordinary day: Ummi, having drawn the short straw that morning, would have managed the small stall the sisters had rented for the week until sundown, when her sisters would have returned. As it turned out, Kya had gotten into some ridiculous fistfight outside the local eatery, which Sura had had to spend the rest of the evening smoothening out with the local authorities, and Ummi would have gone back to the family boat with nothing more to occupy her thoughts than moderating their debate about who had had a worse time of it. In the morning, they would have sailed off to parts unknown, and Ummi wouldn’t have given the stranger a second thought through all her days.  


Instead she did stare at the stranger who had been squinting at her maps for the better part of the afternoon. She didn’t even need his business; despite her natural tendency to plan out the shading and outlines of new maps in her head (or, as Ahnah put it when she was annoyed, to daydream), Ummi had managed to bring in a sizable profit for the day. This was, admittedly, mostly thanks to the young men who must have hoped that Tanaraq (who had the best stories and didn’t balk at a bit of flirting if it got rid of the barrels of Jang Hui cod that had been stinking up their stores for months) would be minding the stall as she had yesterday, but Ummi felt she must deserve at least some of the credit.  


So really, it was nothing more than vanity that made her say, rather more loudly than she had intended: “Would you be interested in any of those maps, sir?”  


What seemed to be half the marketplace turned to stare at her. Ummi felt herself turn red.  


At least this seemed to draw the stranger’s attention from the maps at last. He was, from what she could tell, the picture of an undistinguishable Earth Kingdom scholar; his clothes were the drab greens and browns they favored, if in a rather old-fashioned cut, and a delicate pair of spectacles hung from his neck. None of this did anything to soften the frown on his severe face as he barked, “What is it, young lady?”  


Ummi took a deep breath and reminded herself to pretend to be Ahnah staring down a harbormaster charging exorbitant fees. “I merely asked if you were interested in any of those maps.”  


The scholar snorted loudly in response.  


Unsurprisingly, this only inflamed Ummi’s temper. “They’re some of the finest maps for sale in all the Four Nations—and certainly some of the only ones you’ll find of the Patola Moutnains and Chameleon Bay.”  


“I don’t deny that,” the scholar said, begrudgingly. “But I have a hundred maps of the Patola Mountain Range, and a thousand of Chameleon Bay.”  


“But none so lovely,” Ummi wheedled, now determined to make a sale to this stubborn soul if it killed her, “nor made with such fine materials, nor so affordable for men of learning like you, honorable sir.”  


The scholar ignored her. “But the scribe who made such things—now that, that would be a source of knowledge worth keeping. Tell me, girl, where am I to look to unearth this prodigious talent?”  


Ummi caught her breath. Surely she had misheard him. But no, he was still waiting for his answer, so she replied, quietly but firmly, “These maps were made by my own hand, sir. I thank you for your kind words.”  


In an instant, the scholar’s black, beady eyes were fixed on her. “Did you indeed? How intriguing.”  


“Yes, sir,” Ummi said for lack of any better response. “Thank you, sir.”  


“Tell me, Master Mapmaker,” said the scholar, “would you accept a commission from me?”  


Her heart was pounding so quickly she was sure he must be able to hear it, that it would betray her eagerness to him. But somehow she kept her voice steady and almost uninterested as she told him, “I’m not in the habit of accepting commissions, sir.”  


The scholar fixed her with a long assessing stare–did he know how the game was played?  


“That’s too bad, Master Mapmaker. Such a thing might have been a marvel, but I’ll go on and take my leave,” he said, and bowed his head if about to go. At the last instant—he _did_ know how to play the game, Ummi thought approvingly—he turned his head back towards her. “But a question first, if I may?”  


Ummi kept her face impassive. “I think I might spare the time.”  


“If you could create a map, any map, of your choice, what would it be?”  


She didn’t even have to think about it. “Somewhere new,” she told him, heartbeat quickening again with the wonder of it. “Somewhere no one else has ever seen, much less sketched a map of. Somewhere where people will look at a map one day, and say Ummi Mapmaker created that.”  


“And if I were to offer you just such a place, Master Mapmaker?”  


Once again, she couldn’t breathe, because of joy this time rather than nerves. “Then I would say yes,” she managed at last. “Yes.”  


The scholar didn’t smirk; he was above that, apparently. But what he wasn’t above was looking as though he’d just won some other game, a game Ummi wasn’t even aware he had been playing. “Then so you shall.”  


And without another word, without any discussion of payment or delivery or even what he wanted her to record in the first place, he was gone into the crowd.  


Ummi pressed her lips together and tried her best not to scream.  


* * *

She was quiet through dinner, something her sisters hardly failed to notice.  


“What’s wrong, Ummi?” Sura mumbled through a mouthful of fish and wine. “Kya’s cooking isn’t _that_ bad.” She barely dodged the dumpling Kya threw at her. “Really, though, what was it? Marketplace rough today?”  


“I didn’t think it was so bad,” Tanaraq said brightly and then frowned as she reconsidered. “Though that was yesterday, and who knows what sort of ruffians might have been around today. I mean, what with our Kya taking up their spot in jail.” She laughed and therefore didn’t manage to dodge the dumpling Kya threw at her.  


“I should have just left her there,” Sura said dramatically with a sigh. “We could have always picked her up when we come back round in autumn.”  


“Here,” said Kya kindly to Ummi. “Have a dumpling. You’ll feel better.”  


“How come Ummi gets a dumpling handed to her, not _hurled at her face_?” Tanaraq grumbled.  


“That’s because Ummi’s my favorite, infant.”  


Sura snorted loudly and lobbed the dumpling Kya had thrown at her back at Kya’s face.  


In the middle of the chaos that followed, Ahnah leaned closer to Ummi. “You’re all right, then?”  


Ummi nodded; really, how else could she explain what had happened? “Headache,” she said, because if she hadn’t gotten one by the end of her frustrating conversation with the scholar, she’d have one tonight as she tried to work out what he had even meant in the first place.  


“I see,” said Ahnah, though she seemed unconvinced. “You let me know if it doesn’t get better, understan—Tanaraq! Kya! Both of you stop throwing those seaweed crisps at each other right now or I swear I’ll throw you both overboard! Sura, if you pour that wine over her head, so help me—”  


Ummi left them all to it, climbing up to her hammock instead.  


* * *

That night, Ummi stood at the top of a magnificent range of mountains, the setting sun bright to her left, and a river curling through the valley to her right. Her hands itched for pen and paper, but when she felt at her belt, even her compass and her telescope was gone.  


“They won’t be there,” a man said from behind her, not unamused. “There is only so much even I can do, and bringing an ordinary woman into the Spirit World through my own power challenges even that.”  


In the way of dreams, Ummi did not think it unusual to find the scholar from that afternoon standing by her side, his expression placid as he stared at the sunset. On the other hand, the manner in which his outline blinked an instant later and suddenly resolved into a great black and white bird that peered down at her imperiously was rather more of a shock.  


“Who are you?” Ummi burst out, surprise winning out over shyness for the moment. The spirits only spoke to you rarely, her grandmother had said back home at the South Pole, so you’d best pay attention when they did. This was no dream; this was an equally bizarre reality.  


“I am Wan Shi Tong,” the owl told her, “he who knows ten thousand things, but the geography of my own realm eludes me, as has been…recently been brought to my attention. And you, Master Mapmaker, are here to rectify that error.”  


“Me?” said Ummi, feeling rather stupider than she had any right to. “I’m only a human. What can I do?”  


“You are the human with the closest thing to true genius I’ve come across, if only as far as cartography is concerned.”  


“Thank you. I think.”  


“Under ordinary circumstances, a mortal human would never be able to cross over into the Spirit World without consequences. But the current Avatar is negligent, and the boundaries are weak, which gives me…options. I will bring your spirit into the Spirit World while you sleep, and you will uncover its secrets for me. Once you awaken, you will create your maps, and I will send my knowledge seekers to you, wherever you are, to collect my commissions.”  


If she hadn’t been standing on top of a cliff in the Spirit World, of all places, speaking to an enormous owl, of all people, Ummi wouldn’t have thought twice about agreeing. But she had heard enough stories at her grandmother’s fireside to be wary of making agreements with spirits; or, if there was no choice, at least to make sure you knew what you were getting into.  


“But why would you need such a thing?” If this had anything to do with a war, or even a disagreement between spirits, she would refuse immediately. Ummi neither needed nor wanted powerful enemies.  


“It is knowledge. And the pursuit of knowledge is what I love best in the world.”  


That made sense. That quiet constant ache to know more had been part of what had sent her and her sisters out to sea in the first place.  


“And why me? Why can’t you go?”  


Wan Shi Tong waved his wings at her ruefully. She supposed that might make it difficult to use pen and paper, if nothing else. “Some of my brothers and sisters might…disapprove of my arrival in their territory. They would misinterpret it as a challenge, of sorts."  


That gave her pause; but he hadn’t said they would disapprove of a quiet, unobtrusive mortal, just a fellow spirit. She could be in and out before anyone noticed her with all the information she needed for her maps, and everything would be perfectly fine.  


It all seemed in order. But yet: “And why would I do such a thing?” Ummi asked. This was unlike anything she could have even hoped for, but she was still too much one of the Five Seafaring Sisters to not wrangle for the best she could get.  


The owl cocked its head. “It’s what you said you wanted,” he said. “'Somewhere new, somewhere no one else has ever seen.’”  


“That is so,” said Ummi, head respectfully bowed, “but even master mapmakers must work for a price.”  


Wan Shi Tong’s shoulders relaxed, and if he had still been in human form, she would have sworn he was smiling. “Did I mention my knowledge seekers will pay you handsomely when they come to pick up your maps? One hundred gold pieces should do nicely for a start.”  


Ummi let herself smile back. “Then, Master Wan Shi Tong, we have a bargain.”


End file.
